


Sometimes Ronan Dreams of Gansey

by ParanoidGarbage



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, mention of gansey's wasp incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-22 00:25:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11368755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParanoidGarbage/pseuds/ParanoidGarbage
Summary: Sometimes Ronan dreams of Gansey, but it's never anything good. Sometimes Ronan has nightmares about Gansey, and he needs help recovering.





	Sometimes Ronan Dreams of Gansey

For just a moment, he wondered if Gansey was awake. _Of course he’s awake,_ Ronan quickly chastised himself; the real question was whether or not Ronan could handle seeing him. It had been an awful dream, and a fitful three hours of sleep if he was reading the clock correctly. Ronan scrubbed his blurry eyes with the back of his arm as the events of the dream replayed in his head. 

_His ears were filled with the sound of buzzing, but he couldn’t find the source. When he looked around, all that he saw was dark. “It is light,” he thought to himself, and his dream immediately changed to accommodate. There was wet grass beneath his feet, and he could see a wall of trees not far from where he stood. Ronan walked towards them, seeing a shuddering black form lying on the ground there. As he got closer, the sound of buzzing became deafening and Ronan was able to see that the black form was actually a child, covered in angry wasps. He took a startled step back, and everything but the child turned black again. It was Gansey, he knew, although he could not recognize the angry red form beneath the swarm of wasps. That’s when Ronan lost control. Suddenly he was the boy, shuddering beneath the thousands of tiny pinpricks and gasping for air, unable to call for help. The darkness was more suffocating than the anaphylaxis, swaddling tightly around him as he sat through the slow torture._

Before he had made the decision to move, Ronan was on his feet and opening his door. He faintly registered the chill on his bare back, padding quietly over to where his friend sat working on painting a tin can grain silo. 

“What are you doing up?” Gansey asked, as if he didn’t know exactly what Ronan was doing up, as if this scene hadn’t played out most nights for the two years that the boys lived together at Monmouth Manufacturing. 

Ronan’s skin still burned, still tingled with the pain from the dream. He knelt in front of Gansey, a movement which dipped his knee directly into the plate of paint that Gansey had been working on. 

“Ronan, what the hell?” Gansey began to chastise as Ronan pulled him forward into a tight embrace. Ronan clung to Gansey like his life depended on it, and at that moment, it felt like it.   
Finally understanding, Gansey wrapped his arms around Ronan’s waist and held him firmly, trying to hold his friend together. He could feel Ronan’s heart pounding. 

The two stayed like that for a long while, Gansey gently stroking the back of Ronan’s neck to help soothe him and trying not to focus on the feeling of Ronan’s face nuzzled into his neck. This wasn’t the time for that.

  
_Speaking of time_ , Gansey thought, _He’d usually go back to bed by now._ Something must have been really wrong. 

“Come here,” Gansey grumbled as he pulled Ronan into his lap and held him tighter, bracing the fragile boy against his chest. He tried not to notice how warm Ronan was and how his usually tense muscles were still soft and relaxed from sleep. Gansey traced his fingers gently along the lines of Ronan’s tattoo, then up and down his prominent spine. He felt Ronan shudder out a sigh that seemed more like a stifled sob, and pulled back to look at Ronan’s face.  
He looked sad. He looked tired. He looked everything but okay. 

Gansey studied Ronan’s face, eyes sliding over his knitted brows, his bloodshot eyes, the dark hollows of his lower lids, the set pout of his lips. “What happened?” he asked, knowing already that Ronan wouldn’t tell. He never told Gansey about his nightmares. Ronan dropped his gaze to his legs, bent to straddle Gansey’s outstretched ones.

Gansey slid out from under him and offered Ronan a hand, pulling him up to stand on leaden legs. As he had many nights before, Gansey lead Ronan to his bed and situated the two of them underneath the covers. He cupped Ronan’s face and gently stroked his cheekbone as Ronan gazed back at him, dead-eyed. Gansey could tell that this was going to be a long night. 

Gansey pulled him close once more and Ronan settled familiarly into Gansey’s collarbone, nose nudging his throat. He hummed random, discordant notes in an attempt to form a lullaby and Ronan appreciated the soothing vibrations deep in Gansey’s chest. Ronan brushed his lips gently over Gansey’s throat to feel the vibrations more, causing the odd tune to stutter. “Ronan,” Gansey breathed in tense warning, but Ronan had already returned to his polite place at Gansey’s collarbone. 

Gansey cleared his throat and began humming again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is also posted on my writing blog, paranoidteenagegarbage.tumblr.com!


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